


Chuck Hansen knows how to get what he wants.

by outboxed (fallencrest)



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Parent/Child Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-13
Updated: 2014-06-13
Packaged: 2018-02-04 13:44:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1781194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallencrest/pseuds/outboxed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or, 3 times Herc was jealous and territorial over Chuck + 1 time Chuck was the jealous one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chuck Hansen knows how to get what he wants.

Herc Hansen does not have the greatest impulse control. He works on it and he can deal, really, most of the time, he can deal. But when he sees some guy running a hand over Chuck's shoulders, all familiarity, he yells out "Oi, asshole," without pausing consider whether the adamance flaring within him is appropriate or proportionate to the scene he's witnessing. 

"My son tell you you could touch him?" 

The guy wheels around, Chuck, too, and Chuck's looking down, not meeting anyone's eye, like he's embarrassed and uncomfortable, and the guy's hand is sure as hell not on Chuck's shoulder now, in fact he's taken a good few steps away from Chuck and isn't meeting Herc's eyes either. 

"If not, I've got a piece of advice for you: don't." 

There is an almost-smile on Chuck's face, as he stands there, looking at the floor and shifting from foot to foot like a guilty kid, which, after all, is more or less what he is. None of them are sure where to go from here until Herc yells, more than anything just to keep himself from losing face and give himself a reason to be there in the first place, other than needlessly checking up on his son: "Chuck. Training. Now." 

He turns his back to them both and starts walking away, as though he knows without a doubt that Chuck will follow him. He doesn't know that, not for sure. But he stops a little beyond the bend in the corridor and waits.

When Chuck turns the corner and sees Herc there, there's a gleam in his eye and he says "if you really think that guy is a threat to you, you're dumber than you look." Chuck doesn't stop walking as he approaches Herc, goes right on past without pausing to watch Herc's face, says "We going to train, or what?"

If Herc is honest with himself, that line and the way Chuck holds himself, all confidence, knowing how he looks and what he's just implied, makes him want to call the whole thing off. But he finds himself in the gym a few minutes later all the same, both of them stripped down to the waist and he curses his stubbornness. His only consolation is catching Chuck trying to hide his lingering and hungry eyes. 

Honestly, it doesn't make it any easier.

 

——

Chuck Hansen's first kiss, his first real, proper kiss, lasts less than ten seconds before Herc Hansen comes along and pries them apart physically. 

Herc knows he uses maybe too much force, powered perhaps by a need to compensate for the few seconds he'd just watched, frozen and floored and fascinated, before he stepped in. 

They'd just successfully returned from their sixth deployment, their sixth kaiju kill. Herc had stayed to review the logs, debrief with Stacker Pentecost, and left Chuck to do, well, whatever Chuck saw fit to do — but Herc hadn't imagined this. 

He looks from Chuck to the guy, a guy who he thinks is on the med team, just an intern but still too old for Chuck. Chuck who is his son, and is barely seventeen, shouldn't be kissing guys who are old enough to have jobs— shouldn't be, except that Chuck just saved thousands of lives, most likely, and he deserves to get to celebrate. 

Herc stands between them and his anger dissipates along with his indignance. He walks away without apologising, without saying anything. 

Chuck yells at him later, asks him what the hell that was about and Herc just says, "you're too young," like that's the end of it. He wishes that was the end of it.

 

——

When Herc leaves his quarters to go for an evening run, worn thin by weeks of high stress training, glad to have a little time to himself, he walks past Chuck's room and finds him stood in the doorway. Chuck is leaning across the frame in a way which showcases his arms, animal grace all on display, and the guy he's talking to is standing far too close, like he's been pulled into the orbit of Chuck's easy charm.

Chuck sees Herc though, sees him and calls out, face all lit up: "we've gotta stop meeting like this," like it's a joke, like their lives are the kind where one-liners are the comfortable norm.

"Then ask to move," Herc returns. He tries not to show his frustration but knows it's apparent in his voice and he knows Chuck will hear it in his tone.

He tries to keep walking past but is stopped when Chuck starts to make the introduction. "This is my dad, Herc," Chuck says. His eyes are all on Herc, like the guy he's with doesn't even matter, or maybe he's just got something he's trying to prove by staring Herc down. "He's my co-pilot."

"Yeah, and he's leaving now," Herc cuts in, meeting Chuck's eyes and trying to tell him too many things with that look all at once, not sure which of them he means. 

"Nice meeting you," he says to the guy, not even trying for warmth, and all too aware that the introduction didn't even get as far as going both ways. 

He takes off at a jog and tries not to think too hard about how he could just turn back. It shouldn't matter to him if Chuck and that guy were just talking or whether Chuck's posture was intended as the invitation it appeared as to Herc. 

Herc keeps running when his lungs start to burn, only pauses to drink a little water, circuits the Shatterdome and only waves and nods when he passes someone he knows. He thinks maybe if he gets his body wrecked and exhausted, he'll be able to sleep without seeing the image of his son draped in the doorway, his son inviting someone in. 

His route takes him back around to the pilots' quarters sooner than he'd like. He'd skirted it on his previous circuits, taken the long way around to avoid it, and he thinks now that he'll just keep going past, do another circuit. His knees might be about ready to give in but he isn't. 

He doesn't slow his pace until he sees Chuck. Chuck is sat down next to Herc's door, knees tucked up against his chest and he doesn't look up until Herc's turned the corner, until Herc's already seen him. He stands with what's almost a stumble and Herc slows to a halt in front of him. 

"Chuck," Herc says, near breathless, turning his head a little to examine his son, to try and gauge if there's anything amiss, "are you—" he isn't sure what to ask, mind jarring on things he doesn't want to consider.

"I'm fine," Chuck says, "I—" and his eyebrows crease in uncertainty, as though he's caught between the thing he wants to say and a fear of saying it. But then he takes one step forward, two, and when his lips meet Herc's all Herc feels is shock and the burning in his lungs, before he's gripping the back of Chuck's shirt with desperate urgency, pressing Chuck to him, kissing back.

Chuck presses him into the wall and Herc wishes he'd come home sooner, home to this, barely able to catch his breath under Chuck's mouth. Chuck's right hand holds the back of his head, fingers in Herc's hair; his left finds Herc's waist, grips a little too hard— just hard enough. 

"Christ," Herc says, when Chuck pulls back, and they both stand there trying and failing to catch their breath. 

Herc touches Chuck's face, just looks at him, the look in his eye just like the one he'd had the first time they piloted a Jaeger together, over-awed and unbelieving. He sees the fear creep into Chuck's eyes as the seconds lengthen and neither of them moves and knows he could push Chuck away now and they would never talk about this again. He should. He doesn't.

Instead he surges forward, presses his lips to Chuck's again, catches Chuck's lower lip between both of his. Chuck's hand grips Herc's neck, crowds him against the wall, and they kiss until they're both breathless again, wrecked and strung out and smiling when they pull away. 

They realise at the same time where they are, how public and exposed, and they stand for a moment, both smiling and buzzed, before Chuck kisses Herc again because he can, because he finally can, and who knows when Herc will let him do this again, if Herc will ever let him do this again.

 

——

Chuck Hansen is an obnoxious little shit — or he can be, when he feels like it. He knows his dad is everyone's favourite, knows Herc is the type to build a good rapport with everyone he works with and that he's been in this game long enough to know everyone who matters. And sometimes, just sometimes, he feels the need to show Herc up.

Herc is up at the bridge, leaning over one of the work stations, talking to some gorgeous, immaculate woman who is clearly preening under Herc's attention, like a flower basking in the sun. And Chuck, well, he can't say he likes the idea of that. 

He can't see much of Herc's face but he comes up behind him, lays a hand on Herc's shoulder, stepping in close to him. 

"Hey dad," he says, and his voice comes out like his best attempt at being sultry. Which, okay, maybe Chuck hadn't planned this out too well.

Herc straightens up, like he's uncomfortable and wants to shake off Chuck's hand. The woman's gaze flits between father and son; and Herc just looks at Chuck, wholly unimpressed.

"So you know how you said we'd have some quality time today? You know how you promised?" Chuck says, putting on his best whiny kid voice and accompanying it with a mocking look at Herc.

"Chuck, you know this really isn't the time." Herc says, all exasperation and something like disappointment.

"Oh, okay, sorry," Chuck says, going all reproached and pitiful, like a kicked puppy. And it's a performance, mostly, when he walks out looking all dejected. But it's a triumph when Herc makes his excuses a moment later and follows him out. 

Herc must have run to catch up, is a little out of breath when he reaches Chuck. 

He doesn't call after him, just catches up to him, puts a hand on each of Chuck's shoulders and presses him back against the wall. He kisses Chuck until Chuck's more breathless than he is, and Chuck's thumbs hook inside Herc's jeans, pull him close. 

"C'mon," Herc says, when they pause to catch their breath. He pulls away from Chuck slow and reluctant, his own hands untangling Chuck's from his jeans. He inclines his head the smallest amount, and says "quality time," like it's an order.

Chuck Hansen knows how to get what he wants.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [here](http://pacificrimkink.livejournal.com/350.html?thread=1054302#t1054302) at the Pacific Rim kink meme long ago.


End file.
